The Damned and The Free
by Sable Supernova
Summary: When life has dealt you a bad hand, it's difficult to win the game. Lauren knows she must leave home, but how easy is it to start a new life when you have no choice but to take your baggage with you? OC-centric, Marauder Era multi-chapter. Chapter 1/Prologue up. Rated M mainly for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 - Runaway

_A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my new story! I hope you enjoy your stay. I would like to say that reviews are very much appreciated and I would love to hear your thoughts!_

 **Warning: Child Abuse. There will be more severe warnings for later chapters so consider yourself warned.**

* * *

She pulled the drawer open as silently as she could, rifling through its contents in the moonlight. She flicked past the notebooks and letters - they didn't matter anymore, as part of her old life. She found the photograph, of three girls in smart uniform smiling and giggling at the camera, and smiled a little before shoving it into her pocket and moving on to the next drawer. There were too many memories in this house for Lauren's liking. Too many marks on the walls that it wears like battle scars.

 _-_ o0o-

 _A six year old girl in a floral dress plays on a swing, her wild blonde hair flying around the grin plastered on her face. She looks at her brother as he watches her._

 _"You're going too high," an older girl says, crossing her arms as she stares at her younger sister. The younger girl's smile fades but her play does not._

 _"Oh, go away, Imogen, I'm fine," the little girl comments. Her brother's face grows weary and watchful, but he knows there is nothing he can do._

 _"I told you to slow down," the eyes of the twelve year old girl harden as her face tenses._

 _"Lauren..." her brother warns, but the little girl doesn't hear, continuing to swing back and forth, even though the enjoyment has all but disappeared._

 _"No," the little girl says._

 _The older girl screams, and as she does so, a flash of lilac light erupts from her. The swing suddenly stops, as if it had never been moving, and the six year old body is thrown forwards, tumbling towards the ground. She lands on her hands and knees, which buckle beneath her. Her brother rushes over to where she's lying as the shock catches up with the pain and she's howling in agony before he reaches her._

 _"I told you you were going too high."_

-o0o-

Lauren picked out clothes and shoved them in to the rucksack without ceremony. She didn't think she needed many. She had her inheritance, at least. Best to travel light. There was a lipstick carelessly discarded amongst her knickers that she pulled out to examine: crimson caress. She halted for long enough to apply a deep coat before turning to the rest of her clothes. Most of them, she would leave behind. The girl she used to be wore those clothes, not the girl she was desperate to become.

 _-_ o0o-

 _In the small space beneath the wooden struts of a bed, the darkness cascades around two children like a shield. The boy and the girl both wear smiles; the darkness is full of less terrors than the day._

" _I wish they'd go on holiday and leave us here," the boy comments quietly, his nose wrinkling up in distaste at the thought of 'them'._

" _And never come back," the blonde girl whispers back, a harshness to her tone that her brother stifles a giggle at._

 _The silence around them is still and heavy, and the two know their routine. The early hours of the morning are when their family's sleep is deepest, when they are less likely to be found. The secrets whispered between them before the sun rises never need to be explained in the harshness of the light of day._

" _I wish I was going to Hogwarts," the boy says, suddenly bitter as his eyes set hard._

" _Simon, you don't need magic. You're the best brother even without it," the girl explains, feeling sorry for her brother's sadness. She knows he feels the innate absence of the mystical energy as strongly as she feels his presence. She knows it, but in the innocence of youth, she does not understand._

 _-_ o0o-

The rucksack firmly fastened, she placed it on her back and crossed the room. She opened the window, but before climbing through the frame, she stopped. Looking back into the room, her eyebrows fell low over her eyes as a deep sadness came over her. She shook her head and carried on. Climbing down the drainpipe, she barely registered her movements, knowing the path to the ground as well as she did. As her feet hit the ground, she smiled. Lauren looked to the forest stretched out in front of her and began to walk.

 _-_ o0o-

 _A group of children are sat in the stands around the Quidditch Pitch, enjoying the rare September sunshine. Laughter and smiles are universal._

" _I've decided I never want to get on a broomstick," an auburn-haired girl says, her eyebrows pulled together._

" _Then I've got bad news," a blonde girl replies, a smile tugging at her lips._

" _What?"_

" _All first years take flying lessons," comes the explanation from a small, plump mousy boy._

 _The auburn-haired girl groans as the others grin, excitement obvious on everyone's face._

 _After a pause, a girl with ginger hair and freckles dancing over her porcelain skin turns to the group._

" _I've got an idea," she grins. "A game So we can get to know each other."_

 _The group are quick to agree, as if thinking friendships are easy to come by if you only try._

" _We take it in turns to ask a question and we all have to we don't, we have to do a forfeit," the freckle-faced girl explains. Half the group respond eagerly to the prospect. The other half, including the blonde girl, are more hesitant, as if afraid of their secrets._

 _The game begins, and laughter fills the air around them. The blonde girl smiles by the light of day, though her arms are crossed, guarded. It is her eyes and her eyes alone that betray her hope._

 _-_ o0o-

The ground was wet beneath Lauren's boot as she marches on. She had been walking for some time, and her breath came short as sweat dampened her brow, sticking strands of her hair to the sheen on her skin. Her pace didn't falter as she marched to her own rhythm, through the dense blackness of the forest. The full moon shone down through the canopy, allowing a hint of illumination, but even so she tripped on a jagged root. Pulling herself back up and brushing the dirt from her palms, she sighed and walked on.

 _-_ o0o-

 _A young girl with bright blue eyes climbs down from a bright red, steaming train. Families reunite all around her, smiling through tears and embracing each other after a long year apart. The girl does not smile as she carries her heaving trunk through the crowds. She heads to a woman in green velvet robes and long blonde hair. The woman doesn't notice her, scouring the crowd. As the girl catches up to her, the woman turns her made-up eyes onto the her for a second._

" _Where are your sisters?" she asks._

" _I don't know," the girl responds, her voice quiet._

" _Well then, find them!" the woman barks back, turning back to the crowds._

 _The girl turns away from her mother and heads back into the crowds, still struggling with her heavy trunks, and keeps an eye out for the tall, slender frames of her older sisters._

 _When the foursome are united, the woman turns to the youngest girl, her lip pulled up in disgust and her eyebrows knitted together._

" _You just wait until we get home, Gryffindor." She spits the name of the House like it's a dirty word. "You have a lot to atone for."_

 _She sets off at a brisk pace, not allowing the girl a chance to defend herself._

 _The girl hurries after her, desperately keeping up._

 _-_ o0o-

As Lauren reached the edge of the forest, she could see a road in front of her, and the tarmac seemed blacker than its surroundings through its inability to reflect the light. Lauren raised her hand out into the road and waited.

Two lights appeared where the road disappeared into the night. They drew closer, brighter, until the bus they were a part of became clear, grinding to a halt right in front of Lauren. The doors opened, and without a glance back, she climbed aboard.

 _-_ o0o-

 _A boy and a girl stood alone in a forest clearing, the visible signs of puberty clear in her growing curves and the patchy hair on his jawline. They are staring at each other with damp, shining eyes and not speaking. There is a tension between them that neither one of them can escape._

" _You get to escape, don't you see that? You get away, you get to pretend it's not real," the boy tells her, his voice deeper than it used to be._

" _You think Hogwarts is an escape?" the girl asks, her hair wild and tangled as she forces a hand through it. "You think the war only exists outside of it? That I can ever forget about it?"_

" _No," he replies. "Not the war. I think you can forget about me, though," he tells her and her jaw drops loose as she stares at him._

" _Simon, I could never forget about you," she says, her voice suddenly soft and calm._

 _He looks away from her for a moment, unable to meet her eye._

" _I'm sorry. It just feels like that sometimes," he whispers back. She makes her way over to where he is stood and wraps her arms around him as tears begin to fall from their eyes._

 _-_ o0o-

The Knight Bus jerked around on its journey as Lauren lay in one of the beds. She could not sleep. Her eyes were trained on the flickering candle above her. Her forehead was creased in thought. The bus ground to a halt again, and she lifted her head to look out of the window. With a jolt in her chest she immediately recognised where they were. _Grimmauld Place_. As an old man clambered aboard slowly, with help from the conductor, she let out a large sigh of relief. It wasn't _him_.

 _-_ o0o-

" _You've been with that Mud again," the woman sneers, standing tall over the teenager._

" _They aren't Muggles, they go to Hogwarts," the girl replies, her eyes defiant but her voice weak._

" _You're a Pureblood, whether you like it or not. Your_ friends _," the woman spits the word as if she can hardly bring herself to say it. "Mud or Mudblood - you think it makes a difference?" Her voice is demanding of an answer. She draws her wand out, pointing it at the girl, threatening._

" _No," the girl replies, her tone hard. The girl agreed with her mother on that point though their reasons are different, and the look in the woman's eyes says she understands that much._

" _Crucio," the woman intones, and the girl cries out in unexpected pain as the full force of the curse hits her square in the chest._

 _The girl is used to her mother's outbursts, she's grown accustomed to them over time. Usually, she's numb to their effects. But never before has she attacked with such ferocity. Never before has she used an Unforgivable Curse._

" _Mother," an older girl replies, placing a hand on the woman's arm as a boy, near manhood, rushes over to the girl writhing in agony on the floor. "That's enough," the older girl says, and the woman relents._

" _I hope that teaches you something," the woman says, walking away, as the older girl follows in her wake._

 _The boy and the girl find themselves once more alone, and he helps her to stand._

" _Lauren, you need to get out. Just go, okay?" he tells her._

" _But what about-"_

" _Forget about me. You have a chance. You have magic. You have hope," he tells her, and though tears fall from her eyes, she nods._

" _Okay," she tells him, knowing that this attack would not be the last; knowing she has no other choice._

 _-_ o0o-

Lauren climbed down from the bus, near a coffee shop in Lambeth. She adjusted the rucksack on her back and smiled. She took a deep breath in as her eyes cast a glance around the quiet street. She shifted out of the way to allow the old man to disembark beside her, but she didn't look at him. She looked ahead, at the tired street under the halogen glow of the streetlights. She looked at her freedom as it spread out before her, the sprawling depths of the city, just waiting for her to lose herself in.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you are a little confused, don't worry. This is a prologue of sorts, and the reason I didn't include many character names is that all of these people, scenes and themes will be revisited in later chapters. I'm not expecting any readers to remember specifics, they'll be explained in more detail in the future. However, if you are a lot confused - please let me know why! Any advice is much appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2 - Jack Squat

**Warnings for profanity and underage drinking.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two - Jack Squat**

"Do I know you?" the old man asked, startling Lauren out of her reverie. She was forced to look at the man, and was grateful that she did not recognise him. His greying hair showed signs of the black it once must have been, while his sagging jawline was still strong and aristocratic. His clothes were not half-bad, she surmised, as she took in his green silk waistcoat, embroidered with a darker shade of thread, and long dark brown coat.

"I don't think so," Lauren said, and began to turn away. She was not in the mood for conversation with the stranger.

He reached for her arm, gently, as if to stop her leaving. She paused, but did not look back. She pretended to be fascinated with Vauxhall Park, the gates of which were just across the road. It was tempting, but the lack of streetlights in the park made it a dangerous place to be. She was not yet old enough to use magic outside of Hogwarts without the fear of being found out, and she would not jeopardise this chance she had.

"This is no place for a girl like you, not at this time of night," he said, softly. She didn't particularly care what he thought. "Do you have a place to be?" he asked.

Lauren immediately grew wary. Strange men in dark streets did not often ask girls if they had a place to stay out of the kindness of their hearts.

"Yes," she said, adamantly, hoping he would believe her.

"I see," he said, in a tone that suggested he'd spotted the lie. "I'm sure I recognise your face."

Lauren refused to turn and look at him. She was not here to be seen, to be recognised.

"Yes, I'm sure my nephew has a photograph of you in his bedroom," he explained, and Lauren saw her chance. She fixed a broad smile onto her face before turning to look at him, steeling herself and her courage against his curiosity.

"I don't doubt that, I reckon I decorate the walls of a few boys I know. I'm quite popular," she said, hoping the hint of innuendo would unnerve him. Instead, he smiled a little as he looked at her.

"You're the Potter girl," he told her, and Lauren's face dropped. If she wasn't branded a Pureblood extremist by those who saw her mother's blood in her face, she was branded the centre of the pity party as the Potter girl. She always toed the line between Potter and Devine as far as anyone else cared, and apart from her brothers, James and Simon, she was desperate to be rid of both legacies.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't call me that. And anyway, who are you?" she asked, no longer on the defensive as her mood swiftly changed to attack.

"Just Lauren, then?" he asked, though he didn't leave room for an answer. "I'm Alphard, Alphard Black."

Lauren's face fell as her heart flew at double speed. It would be just her luck that the first face she saw whilst attempting pathetically to rid herself of that world belonged to one of them; one of the ancient and noble families. Of course it would be a _Black_. Alphard saw the look on her face, and offered a nervous smile.

"It seems you've met my sister," he said, and Lauren had indeed met his sister. Sirius' mother left an impression on everyone she encountered, and outside of her closed circle, it was rarely a pleasant one.

"Leave me alone," Lauren said, backing away from him slowly.

"They're my family, yes, but don't forget about your own family, child. We are more than a name, are we not? I have a house, around the corner, if you would like a warm bed for the night. I won't tell a soul," he told her, and as much as Lauren wanted to believe him, it would take a lot more than kind words on a dark summer's night for her to trust.

"I know how family works, but you're not the same as me. You see, I just got out. Tell me, when are you next having luncheon with dear Walburga? Or the Rosiers, for that matter? What about the Malfoys?" she spat, and turned on her heel.

She ran as fast as she could, in the only direction she saw hope at the end of. She turned south, away from the park and down towards the residential area. She hoped, beyond hope when she considered he could Apparate, that he would not follow her. She was just some kid on the street, and she didn't need his pity.

After a few minutes of following the road round, she turned a corner by a sign that read, " _Heyford Ave._ " and had to pause for breath. As a Quidditch player, running had never been her strong point, but there was no sign of the Black, at least. Lauren felt relief wash over her for a moment, before she realised what she'd just done.

From Vauxhall Park, she knew her way North, up to Piccadilly and Diagon Alley, she did not know her way South. For all intents and purposes, she was lost in a city she did not know as well as she would have liked.

She looked around at her surroundings, taking in the large houses that lined the streets. They were colourful, even in the dimness, their bricks a light ochre with ruddy accents around the edges of the bay windows. At three stories in the centre of town, they were practically manor homes, which filled Lauren with a sense of dread. Houses like these reeked of money, and attracted the sort of magical families that Lauren was so desperate to avoid.

It was then that Lauren noticed she was being watched. In an upstairs window, the curtains of which were stained and hanging loose, a shadow of a man was staring intently down at her. He was gone as soon as she'd seen him, but she knew he'd been there. If it wasn't for that haunting frame, she'd have sworn the house had been empty. It was certainly the most dilapidated of the row.

When she'd left, mere hours ago, Lauren had felt smart and street-wise. She'd felt old enough to cope. Fifteen years seemed like long enough to be alive before you ventured out alone. As fear crept up her spine and a fierce shiver took hold of her, she realised for the first time in years that she was still a child. She began to walk away from the shabby house, walking back down the street the way she'd came slowly. No matter how scared she felt, she was used to the feeling by now, and she would not let it show.

"Hey, you girl!" a voice called from behind her, and Lauren squeezed her eyes shut tight before turning around. A young girl alone at night attracted far too much attention for Lauren's liking. She briefly wondered if Polyjuice Potion was the way forward.

The man stood before her was tall and skinny. He couldn't have been much older than Lauren herself, in torn corduroy trousers and a stripy brown jumper. His navy blue Doc Martin boots, scuffed and tarnished, were completely at odds with the rest of his outfit, but he had such an air of nonchalance about him that Lauren guessed he didn't particularly care. She stood and watched him as he made his way over to her with a lilting walk, as if he was slightly intoxicated by something.

"You look lonely," he commented, his voice a little hoarse as he reached her, staring with an unblinking intensity.

"That's none of your business," she told him.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said, holding his hands out in front of him as if offering them to an officer for cuffing. "I'm Chris," he told her with a crooked smile.

Lauren couldn't help but smile a little as she watched him, carefree and easy as he was, but she still didn't trust.

"I'm Lauren, but I'm not sticking around."

"Lauren-but-I'm-not-sticking-around, eh? That's a cool name, but it's a bit long," he joked, and Lauren found herself laughing at the ridiculous way he said it. She couldn't place his accent. He was definitely fairly local, but he spoke with an accent she associated with business suits and firm handshakes, not with the ripped trousers and long, scruffy hair he wore like a fashion statement. "Look, I came over because you look like you could do with a little help. It's four in the morning, and you could probably do with a place to crash, right? Well, me and my friends are staying in that house over there, and we have a spare couch, if you fancy it."

Lauren was tired, but she wasn't that easily fooled.

"No, thanks, I'm alright," she said with a weary smile.

"You run away from home, by any chance?" he asked with a knowing smile, as if he could smell it on her.

"Maybe," she said, not wanting to give him any information he didn't need.

"So did I. A year ago, when I was seventeen. I found these guys, and well, we're all in the same boat, kid. This world is hard and shits like us don't get things for free. We muddle together, do what we can, have a laugh and keep each other company. Why don't you just come in and see? If you don't like it, you can leave. It's up to you, kid," he told her, and Lauren found herself wavering in her certainty. She probably couldn't do this alone, she knew. But she didn't know him: she didn't know if he was telling the truth.

She thought of Hogwarts, where she'd be expected to return to in a few months. She thought of her friends she was desperate to return to in one piece: Daniel, Lily, Sirius. Her brothers even crossed her mind, the Potter and the Devine. Most importantly, she thought of her wand. Her secret line of defence that would keep her safe among Muggles like the boy stood before her, ruffling his dark blonde hair with long fingers.

"Okay, I'll come see," she told him with a smile, and he smiled back. Lauren's last thought as she began to follow him was that she hoped his smile was genuine.

Bare floorboards and crumbling walls were the first things Lauren noticed as he pushed the squeaky door open. Even the dim light from the single bare bulb in the hallway illuminated the damp patches that crept along the ceiling and the corners of the walls. There was a musty smell about the place, a tell-tale sign of the building's age. Lauren wondered how long it had been empty before Chris and his friends had moved in. The sound of laughter and chatter echoed through to Lauren's ears from a door at the end of the corridor, slightly ajar. She drew in a nervous breath and followed him as he made his way through the house.

There were three people sat on rickety wooden chairs around a littered table.

"Guys, meet Lauren," Chris smiled as he introduced her.

A small brunette girl jumped up immediately with a grin, the battered and torn top hat she'd been wearing falling off her head as she did so. "Yay! A new person!" she yelped, running around the table to capture Lauren in an embrace. Lauren could smell alcohol on her, and while the hug seemed perfectly normal to the small girl, it made Lauren a little uncomfortable.

"Sorry, she's always like that," an older boy told her slowly with a thin-lipped smile. His auburn hair was kept much shorter than Chris', just brushing his eyebrows, and his skin was so pale that Lauren wondered if he'd become nocturnal.

There was another girl in the room, with a head of hair that was half-shaved, half-blue, although her natural blonde roots were clearly showing. She fixed Lauren with a heavily lined stare before offering a smile.

"Hi," she said with a small wave.

"So this is some of our rag-tag group. The rest are asleep already, lightweights," Chris commented as the brunette bounced down back into her seat, picking up her hand of cards.

"We just dealt a new hand, if you play?" the brunette asked. "Chris, you in?"

Lauren nodded, pulling up a chair as she placed her bag down in the musty corner.

"Drink?" the older boy asked from his seat beside Lauren.

"Sure," she said with a smile. She couldn't help but accept, and he handed her a bottle of cheap beer.

* * *

 **AN: Just a historical note - the place Lauren has just arrived in is a Squat, which were really common in London in the 70s, considered by many a right of passage, filled with hippies and punks alike.**

 **The title for this chapter is a slight play on the word 'squat', but it's also an idiom that means 'nothing'.**

 **Anyway, please leave me your thoughts :)**


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